Into the Mead he comes, nor doth fright

Into the Mead he comes, nor (seen) doth fright;
The Virgins to approach him all delight,
And stroke the lovely Bull, whose divine smell
Doth far the Meads perfumed breath excell:
Before unblam'd Europa's feet he stood
Licking her neck, and the Maid kindly woo'd:
She stroak'd and kiss'd him; and the foam that lay
Upon his lip wip'd with her hand away:
He softly bellow'd, such a humming sound
Forth breathing as Mygdonian Pipes resound.
Down at her feet he kneels viewing the Maid
With writhed neck, and his broad back displai'd,
When she to th'fair-haird Virgins thus doth say;
Come hither dear companions, let us play
Securely with this Bull, and without fear;
Who like a Ship all on his back will bear.
He tame appears to sight, and gently kind,
Diff'ring from others, a discursive mind
Bearing like Men, and onely voice doth lack.
This said, she smiling gets upon his back;
Which the rest off'ring, the Bull leaps away,
And to the Sea bears his desired prey;
She cals with stretch'd out hands, she turns to view
Her friends, alas unable to pursue;
Down leaps he, Dolphin-like glides through the Seas:
Up from the deep rise the Nereides ,
Mounted on Whales to meet her on the way:
Whilst hollow-sounding Neptune doth allay
The waves, and is himself his brothers guide
In this Sea-voyage; Tritons on each side,
(The deeps inhabitants) about him throng,
And sound with their long shels a nuptial song;
She by transformed Jupiter thus born,
With one hand holding fast the Bulls large horn
Her purple garment with the other saves
Unwet by the swoln Oceans froathy waves;
Her mantle (flowing o're her shoulders) swell'd
Like a full sail, and the young maid upheld.
Now born away far from her native coast,
Her sight the wave-washt shore and mountains lost
She sees the Heav'ns above, the Seas beneath,
And looking round about these cries doth breath.
O whither sacred Bull? who art thou, say?
That through undreaded floods canst break thy way:
The Seas are pervious to swift ships alone,
But not to Bulls is their fear'd voyage known;
What food is here? or if some God thou be
Why dost what misbeseems a Deity?
Translation: 
Language: 
Author of original: 
Moschus
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.